Hit or Miss
by LSgrimm91
Summary: Sam knew she would find him at the hockey rink.  He was doing the same thing he did every December the nineteenth.  It took her three years to notice his absence on that particular day, six years to find out why and eight years to follow him.  S/J


**Disclaimer: I own neither Stargate SG-1 or The X Files... I own the DVD collections.**

**A/note: Another little random diddy. A short one this time. I may have been influenced by TXF 'unnatural' for this one. But only in a teeny tiny way. A little bit of Sam/Jack fluff for all the lovely SG fans out there. I'm only guessing some things about the ice rink. I've never seen real snow (I live in South Australia!) or been to an ice rink, so forgive my uneducated conjectures. Enjoy!**

*******PS, the last chapter of 'Then it takes what it will' is almost done. I'll update it before I go to bed.**

**~ Hit or Miss ~**

Sam knew she would find him at the hockey rink. He was doing the same thing he did every December the nineteenth. It took her three years to notice his absence on that particular day, six years to find out why and eight years to follow him.

Jack slammed puck after puck into the goals, his movements angry and sad at the same time. Sometimes he would miss, but most hit the net. It looked like he had an entire bucket full of the rubber disks, all shivering on the cold surface, just waiting for him to vent his frustration on them. Sam leaned on the barricade and watched for a full ten minutes before Jack registered her presence.

"What do you want Carter?" He looked away and sent another puck into the net.

"To see if you're okay." She stayed on the edge of the rink.

"Today? Not really." Another shot into the net. Sam watched him slice another four in.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked, sounding very calm. He took one look at her before hitting another innocent puck, this time missing the goal.

"Sure. Why not?" He grumbles sarcastically. Sam steps into the rink, thankful her sneakers are still new and have a good grip on the ice.

He continues to shoot the hockey pucks into the net, but finds his aggravation is beginning to dissipate.

"I know how it works, Carter. Sometimes I miss 'em. In some other alternate timeline, reality, dimension, _whatever_, he's still alive. I'm stuck in the one that missed." Jack drove his hockey stick into the ice and leant on it. He gave his 2IC a scrutinising gaze, trying to understand why she was here. Of course, she knew as well as he did that even though Charlie or her mother was alive somewhere else, this was where they belonged and these were the burdens they carried. He felt the tendrils of understanding reach out to her and suddenly, he was glad she was with him.

"Come over here." He beckoned her with a finger; their professionalism decreed she should be uncomfortable with his request. Jack would have none of that today. "Please..." She manoeuvred around the untouched pucks surrounding him.

He opened his arms held out the end of his hockey stick to her. She hesitated but when he gave her an assuring nod, she walked into the frame of his arms. She stood in front of him, his arms circling around her and her hands firmly gripping the stick underneath his.

"Ready?" He asked. She didn't know he was so close and his warm breath tickled her cool ear.

"Ready." They took a swing back, his fore arm pressing into her stomach and his hands tightening over hers. They swung and hit the puck, sending it rolling to the left of the goals.

"See? That was a miss. In another reality, that would have gone straight in." Jack explained, lining up the next shot. Sam adjusted her body in his arms, trying to feel his movements and synchronise her own. "That was for Charlie."

They took another swing, this time the puck went straight over the top.

"Crap. What was that one?" He asked, shifting his hands on top of hers. Sam stilled as she thought her answer.

"That one was for my mother." She took control of the next swing, sending the puck into the goals. "Now... that one might have missed. But it didn't. So what's a good thing about this reality?" She asked.

"Daniel and Teal'c." Another hit. Jack locked one knee into Sam's leg to stop himself from moving on the ice. "That one was for... Hammond."

Another hit.

"I think that one can be for Jacob... and Selmak." He hoped that she understood what he meant. That she should be thankful for the Tok'ra, despite her father's recent death.

"I agree." She grinned. They took another swing. A miss. "I don't think we're very coordinated Sir." Jack pressed into her back until she wasn't sure where he ended and she began. They took another shot. This one went into the centre of the net.

"You won't get them all. Sometimes you miss out. Even the important ones. That one is for you and me." Jack pulled another puck towards them, but Sam resisted, holding the stick still.

"Us, Sir?" Sam asked, a tiny frown playing on her brow. She glanced at him over her shoulder, finding his face very close to her own.

"Yeah, Carter." Jack pulled back to see her expression more easily. "We're definitely a good thing. What, you think we're one of the things wrong with this world?" His eyebrows arched in worry.

"No. I think you're a hit." Sam turned in the circle of his arms. Jack stood up straight and trapped her between his body and the hockey stick, still grasped firmly in his hands behind her. She tentatively placed her hands on his upper arms.

"I've missed out on a few good things. But I'm glad you're here." His emotions were raw and plain to see. When she looked into Jack's eyes she found mourning, anger and regret. But Sam also saw a longing, like he wanted to be completely healed.

"Do you think you would have gotten involved with the program if Charlie hadn't...?" She left the sentence hanging, not wanting to put the source of his pain in words. He released one end of the hockey stick and placed the end on the ice. She still held his arms to stop him from turning away.

"Probably not." Sam nodded and let her hands fall to her side. "But... I'm learning to live with it." He shrugged.

"I know. That's all you can do."

"Losing Charlie, losing Sara. That sucked beyond recognition." He scoffed. "But for every missed shot, there are hits. A few good things. Like you." Sam gave him an appreciative smile and was pleased to see a little warmth wash over him. She wondered how to tell him that she's here. That she wants to help him carry this burden, without stepping over that damned line that is a really big miss in its own right.

Sam lifted a cold hand and touched his jaw ever so lightly, a feather on the weathered stone. She takes on carefully step forward on the slippery ice and presses her lips to his. Jack turned his head down and accepted the kiss. She couldn't take his pain from him; it was his and only his. All she could do is assure him that she will always be there. She couldn't distract him from the loved ones he had lost, but she hopes he will understand that someone out there will still love him.

She cares for him. That much she knows for certain. Love him? Maybe. She wasn't allowed to love him. Her kiss was everything she could offer him as a friend, including the sadness that she couldn't offer him the support of a lover.

Jack was wrong. They weren't a hit. They were a stationary penalty shot, just waiting to be taken.

She felt his pain in their wordless expression and imparted her own suffering. He was the first to pull back, resting his forehead on hers, silently thanking her for being there. For being one of the good things in his life after suffering such loss.

She took one last, knowing, look in his eyes before turning around and slowly walking off the ice. Jack didn't _need _to follow her. He knew that even if he was in Washington, she would be there for him. Jack knew that she was in Nevada; he would be there for her. But still, Jack _wanted _to follow her.

"Sam..." Jack called to her as she reached the white barricade. She turned back to him, and he saw that tiny spark of hope.

"Come to DC some time. I think we'll need to talk." Jack wanted her to agree, he really did. If she did, they could start something that would sooth those old wounds. She smiled and nodded.

"I look forward to it Jack." His name rolled off her tongue as if she's been saying it for years. Maybe she had been. Maybe when she said 'Sir', she meant 'Jack'.

This was definitely going to be a game defining shot.

~ SJ ~

**Another story that fell out of my left ear. I hope you enjoyed it. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Sorry, Just had to change a few things... *bites knuckle* (for some reason) I put some sentences in present tense. Oops.**


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